You Taste Like Buttercream
by jazziisms
Summary: Sasha is struggling with her math. Luckily for her, her boyfriend is very good at math. Arusasha. Requested by anonymous.


Some modern arusashas for the soul, requested by anonymous. Rated for kissing and bras.

* * *

For as long as he's known her, Sasha Blouse will do anything to get attention. They lay in his bed on a Monday evening, homework sprawled around them, with classical music softly blaring from his phone in the background. He's certainly not opposed to doing homework with his girlfriend, but Armin's pretty sure she's not sighing every five minutes just to be doing it. There's a reason. There's always a reason.

"Alright, what seems to be the problem?" he asks as he finally gives her the attention she wants, setting his pencil down in his notebook before he looks over at her. She's staring at him expectantly, cheek in palm, legs kicking back and forth in a lazy manner. He takes a glimpse at her paper and fights the urge to openly gawk. They've been in here for almost an hour! How is she still on the second question?

"I don't get it," she whines.

"What part don't you get?" he queries patiently.

"Everything! You know math was never my best subject."

"Sasha," it's his turn to sigh, "if you need help, all you had to do was ask."

She pouts. "I didn't wanna bother you."

"You could never bother me."

Sasha beams. Her whole face lights up and it makes him smile. "Really?"

"Yeah! And if you're having problems, just tell me. I want you to do well. I want you to succeed."

Sasha is a good student overall. She may not be as quick to understand challenging subjects, but with help it gets a little easier. She gets disgruntled whenever their teachers have the students grade each other's papers because she knows she'll have a lot of marks on her paper, and it only makes her confidence take a downward spiral. Most of their peers assume that Sasha is "the farm girl that eats a lot", or "the lazy one", and it hurts her. He knows it does.

The worst feeling is when you know you're trying your best, and yet it's like the world is against you.

Armin has taught her helpful tips with taking notes. Instead of writing with a pencil or a plain black pen, color code. Separate chapters in sections in her binder. Sit in the front of the class so she won't have to strain to see, and remove distractions that primarily come from sitting in the back of the classroom. Don't write everything on the slide. And thankfully, some of those tips has helped her. He's gone through her notes tons of times and would laugh to himself when he sees little doodles of their initials in the corners, surrounded by hearts.

But math? It's hard to study for math.

She's filling out a study guide the day before it's due ( old habits die hard, he supposes ). They have exams soon and tension is high. No wonder she looks like she's about to cry right now.

That, or maybe because he told her something sentimental.

"Here, lemme see," he suggests, pulling her study guide towards him, and she scoots closer. They are already close enough for starters, but he feels her hair brush against his face and her shoulder press against his, and his lips curve up slightly. Out of the two, he has the neatest handwriting, but hers is still eligible. He's proud of her for finishing the first question at least. It is a list of equations to solve, all lined up in a horizontal fashion. Despite her phone displaying the calculator installed in it, she showed her work in her large, loopy penmanship. "Looks good to me so fair," he praises.

"I'm brain dead." Sasha lolls her head, pressing her lips against his shoulder. Armin's shirt lifts slightly as her hand slips under it, dragging her short fingernails across the small of his back.

"That feels nice," he hums.

"Can you do it to me too?"

A soft chuckle, arm snaking around her. "Come here."

"I'm already here!" Sasha giggles, making a happy noise when his hand skirts past her blouse to knead the soft skin at her hip.

"Alright so," he begins, stroking her leisurely. "Let's get you through the first half of this, okay?"

"Why can't you help me finish the whole thing?"

"You won't learn anything if I continue to help you, Sash," he points out. "You have to learn how to do it on your own sometime." When her face falls, he turns and kisses her cheek. "You can do this. I know you can."

She huffs in defeat. "Okay."

With his help, they breeze through it. Well, the first half at least. And during that ordeal, he could feel Sasha's eyes on him more than her paper. It's distracting, but he doesn't let it show. If he's not concentrating, then they're not moving forward.

But he can't help but to want to meet her gaze, immerse himself in those brown hues, and forget about school for just a little while. Hold her close, run his fingers through her hair, kiss those soft lips, whisper sweet nothings in her ear...literally anything to take her mind off of things for a while.

She's thinking about this too, he knows, because as soon as they hit the halfway mark and he asks, "Any questions?", she answers, "Nope!" and puts the palms of her hands on his chest, pushing him down on his back abruptly. He forgets how strong she is sometimes, and the action knocks the wind out of him.

"What are you doing? We're not even done yet," he wheezes, his hands subconsciously making their home on her waist. He's straddled by his confident girlfriend and if he were anyone else, the look on her face would probably scare him.

"Yes we are," she says as she leans down, and her lips shape themselves around his; pressing her body against him, her movements caused their bodies to move upwards, but that's the least of his concern. It's Armin's turn to groan in defeat, running a hand up her spine and down again as he kisses her back, semi-aware that if they move any more than where they are now, they are going to crush their homework.

"Sasha," he starts to warn her in a playful tone. No, but seriously. Save the homework!

"Shh," a finger places itself over his smiling lips. "We're just taking a little break."

"And how long are you planning this break to be?" he plays along, closing his eyes at the feeling of her sweet, longing kisses raining all over his face.

"Five minutes maybe?"

"Hmm." She leans down to kiss him and he angles up his chin to meet her halfway, breathless giggle shared between them. The blue in his eyes notably darkens as she sits up to pull her shirt up over her head, and he feels heat flood to his cheeks. He doesn't look to see where the article of clothing ended up. "Something tells me you're wanting more than five minutes," he teases despite the slight tremble in his voice, his hand ghosting up her stomach.

He's given a cute head tilt, and a suggestive wink to go along with it.

He tilts his own head, gaze drifting from his captivating girlfriend to aimlessly stare at the wall. Listening. "You know my grandpa is still here, right?"

She blushes. "O-Oh! Uh...right."

God, she's so cute.

"I like how you never have any plain bras. There's always a theme with you." He sits up so he could brush his thumbs against the underside of her bra.

"T-Thanks." Her blush deepens. "I, uh, heh…" she laughs nervously, looking down. She has on her strawberry one today.

"Hey," he coaxes her chin up so she could look at him, then he cups her face when they maintain eye contact. "I like it. A lot, actually. Can't say I've seen a lot of bras in my lifetime."

Sasha laughs, shoulders sagging as she relaxes, and dips her head to kiss him again.


End file.
